


Mending Broken Things

by lilidelafield



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-07-25 11:39:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilidelafield/pseuds/lilidelafield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is set following events in the season four story `Hippocratic Oath'.<br/>Has Miles Lost Julian's friendship forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Friendship in Pieces

Part one

Keiko put her arm around her husband's shoulders.

"I thought tonight was your darts night with Julian, darling. Why don't you go off and have fun for a change? You need a break, and I still have a lot of work to finish off here before bed, so..."

Miles shook his head.

"We don't do that anymore..."

Keiko frowned.

"I don't understand."

"Julian and I don't play darts anymore. We don't do anything anymore."

"You don't? How come?"

Miles sat back and sighed.

"It's a long story Keiko, but what it all boils down to is that on a routine mission the other week, our lives were in danger, and I disobeyed Julian's direct order in order to save his life...at least, that's how I saw it at the time."

"I see...and he's angry with you still?"

Miles shrugged.

"He's not acting like he's angry. That's the thing. It would be almost easier if he did, but it's more like he doesn't know me anymore. He treats me like a stranger. Never calls me by my name, only `Chief', never asks for my company, and refuses when I invite him anywhere. No explanation or apology, simply says something like `No, sorry Chief, I can't'. At first I thought it would blow over, but now I don't think it will. I've lost him as my friend."

"Oh Miles, I'm so sorry. I suppose you've tried to talk to him about it?"

"Oh yes, and before I get any further than; 'Julian, can I have a word...', he'll ask me if I am sick. When I say `no', he tells me he is very busy and please excuse him. I can't get him to talk to me or to treat me like anything other than a complete stranger. He hasn't changed toward anyone else...but he's keeping me at arm's length all the time. Everyone has noticed it, but he refuses to discuss the matter with anyone. Not even Jadzia can get him to talk about it. I'm not sure what else I can do."

Keiko kissed him.

"This thing you did...do you regret doing it?"

"Of course."

"Alright, I'll rephrase the question. Are you still convinced you did the right thing? If you were to face the same situation tomorrow, would you do the same thing again?"

He paused, then nodded.

"I hate to say it, but yes, I think I would. I would rather be court-martialled than let my best friend be killed when I can do something to stop it."

"Then you have nothing to be ashamed of Miles. He has obviously decided not to press charges for his own reasons, and is punishing you by being hurt and upset. You'll just have to be patient with him. He may come round and he may not, but so long as you were true to yourself, what more can anyone expect of you?"

He nodded.

"You're right of course. Julian was being true to himself too of course. That's something I failed to take into account at the time. We live and we learn."

He kissed his wife.

"I'm lucky you're my friend."

That afternoon Bashir entered Sisko's office in obedience to a summons and met O'Brien in the doorway. O'Brien smiled.

"Hi Julian."

"Good afternoon Chief." he replied stiffly, and went in.

O'Brien's face fell, and he followed Bashir inside with a slight droop of the shoulders. Sisko had noticed the exchange between them, and the certain stiffness in the doctor's manner, and nodded to himself. Dax had been right, after all.

"I have a mission for you both. In the Gamma quadrant, the planet Cimeira, situated way off the usual trade routes, and a long way from any Dominion activity, but we want a detailed biological survey done. We want details of life-forms, weather patterns and plant-life that will either hinder or help any teams deciding to stay there for any period of time. The place has been geologically surveyed, and is believed to be a source of rich mineral deposits...so it is up to you two to go."

Julian frowned.

"Captain, wouldn't Dax and Kira be better suited?"

"I'm not sending Dax and Kira, I am sending the two of you. We shall be able to cope for a few days without you both. Have a good trip."

"Sir..." Bashir began again. Sisko stood up.

"Dismissed!"

Bashir sent a troubled frown in O'Brien's direction, then gave a curt nod.

"Aye sir."

In Ops, Kira, Dax, Sisko, Odo and Worf watched the runabout disappearing through the wormhole.

"Well done Captain. Do you think it will work?" Odo asked in his usual direct manner. Sisko shook his head.

"Those two, fifteen days alone in a runabout? Either they'll come back vowing never to work again within a hundred light years of each other, or they'll come back the best of friends."

Kira shook her head.

"I never thought I'd see Miles and Julian at war like that."

Dax grinned. She shook her head.

"It's not a war. Julian's too sensitive for that. He'll probably sit in that runabout for a few days, being charming, silent and very polite...things which irritate O'Brien more than anything else."

Kira laughed.

"And O'Brien will sulk, then explode. The pair of them will shout and bellow at each other, clear the air, then kiss and make up."

"I hope so people. And now, if it's not too much trouble, how about a little work being done around here?" said Sisko.

In the runabout, Miles and Julian sat silently side by side. Miles glanced sidelong at Julian a few times, aching to see that familiar sidelong smile, but Julian remained straight faced, watching the screen intently or down at his panel. Once the course was locked into the computer, there was no need for both of them to remain at the con, and Miles glanced at Julian again, wishing he would relent somehow, if only to give some kind of order that he could follow. Finally, Julian looked round.

"Go on Chief, I'll be quite alright here on my own for a bit without your august presence. I promise to yell for help if I start to panic."

Blushing furiously, Miles headed for the rear of the

runabout, biting his tongue. He had never dreamed that Julian would make such an unpleasant enemy. He ordered a hot coffee from the replicator and sat on the edge of one of the bunks, cradling it in his hands. He thought back over the last few years. Times of friendships, Racquetball, games on the holodeck, good times and hard times, heartbreak, laughter and tears. Through everything, Julian had always been there, as steady as a rock. Memories of T'Lani III, where he and Julian had been forced to hide, in danger of their very lives from both the T'Lani and the Kellerun. He himself had been dying of a killer virus. He recalled how Julian had kept him alive and protected him from their pursuers whilst at the same time completely rebuilding an old, wrecked communications console, with only some whispered instructions from a dying man to help him.

Against all the odds, Julian had come through, as he always did. In fact, everything Julian did, he put his whole heart into. His entire being. He cared passionately about people...about lives. Not just those of his friends, fellow humans, or even the lives of Federation citizens. He cared about ALL lives. The lives of his enemies mattered to him as much as any other. He would shoot a phaser if he had to in order to protect his fellow officers, but as soon as the danger was over, he'd be out there if he could, treating those he had just been shooting at, whatever the cost to himself. Foolhardy perhaps, brave most definitely.

Julian was glad when Miles finally left the con. He could feel somehow that Miles wanted to try and talk to him again. The pain he had seen in Miles' eyes, after his last sarcastic comment had pierced Julian to the soul. But he couldn't stop being angry. Why was he still so angry with the man? Miles was obviously desperate to make it up somehow. Julian shook his head. He was not angry any more, that was the problem. He had not been angry for long, only very, very hurt. The hurt would just not go away. How could it? Miles had not done anything out of character. He had been true to himself, just as Julian had been. If Miles' convictions were such that he was led to disobey Julian's orders; even though Julian was sure he would never have disobeyed any of the other officers; then where did that leave their friendship?

How could he bring himself to play darts and racquetball with a man who considered his own opinions far more valid than those of his senior officer? Should he have pressed charges against him after all? No never. He could never have done that to Miles anyway, but as the Chief Medical Officer, he needed people to trust him. How much respect would he have earned from station personnel and residents if he had court-martialled his own best friend? He would have had to start packing his bags within a few days. No one would have wanted to go and talk to him about anything personal ever again. No. The friendship would have to go...unless he could somehow let go of the hurt...he shook his head, surprised to find himself holding back tears. No, Miles had betrayed him, abused their friendship. No matter how much he tried to tell himself that Miles was as imperfect as everyone else, that everyone makes mistakes, that hurt, that feeling of betrayal kept coming back to haunt him. He hated to see the hurt feelings on Miles' face when his attempts at friendship were rebuffed, but he could not bring himself to forgive him. Not yet. The hurt was still too raw. He looked round as Miles came back and handed him a mug.

"Here, a mug of Tarkalian tea, extra sweet."

"Thank you."

Julian swallowed his pride, accepted the mug, and took a sip of the drink. It was very good, and very welcome. He couldn't help letting out an audible sigh.

"You look tired. You want me to relieve you for a few hours so you can get some sleep?"

For a brief moment, Julian paused, then gave in, and nodded.

"Thanks. Call me in five hours."

"Only five? I'd have thought..."

Miles trailed out as he saw the look on Julian's face, and nodded.

"Five hours it is sir."

He kept his eyes forward, so he did not notice the shadow that passed across Julian's face as he left the cockpit. For five hours Julian lay on his bunk staring at the bulkheads.

Exhausted though he was, he was unable to sleep. Thoughts of all sorts whirled around and around in his head. When he received O'Brien's reminder, he appeared in the cockpit looking thin and gaunt, dark circles around his eyes. Miles was shocked.

"Didn't you manage to get any sleep sir? You look terrible!"

"Thanks. No I didn't."

There was silence for a while, then Miles ventured, almost timidly;

"Am I the reason?"

"Now just why would you think that Mr O'Brien?"

"Oh come on doctor! You know as well as I do why Sisko put you and me together on this trip. Either we'll learn to be friends again or we'll end up killing each other. Whichever it is, by the time this runabout gets back to the station, you and I are expected to be at peace. You've refused to talk to me so far, even to tell me what the hell you think of me, so I assume you'd rather the second option. That is fine by me, lieutenant, as I would rather be dead than end my career being avoided by you. So do you want to do it now and get it over with, or shall I wait until we've finished our survey and do it myself?"

As Miles finished this tirade, he was amazed when Julian suddenly burst into laughter.

"You're quite right of course Miles. Sisko, Dax, Kira, Odo and Quark have all been on at me to find out what happened between us. I suppose they did to you too?"

Miles nodded. Julian raised an eyebrow.

"So, we are either friends or at least enemies on truce when we get back to the station."

"I'd rather we were friends..." Miles muttered hopefully. He looked up, and saw the tears brimming Julian's eyes as his former friend replied.

"Alright Miles, you want to know what I think do you? I'll tell you. Other people might be able to dismiss what you did, but I can't dismiss it so easily. I realise the reasons you did it, I understand it, and I know that you were just being you...I have even tried to forgive you for it, on the basis of the fact that you were being true to yourself, but you hurt me, Miles. I can't get passed the fact that you abused our friendship. I feel betrayed. You don't need to protest that you only did it to save my life. I remember. I keep on and on telling myself that, over and over. You believed you were doing the right thing but so did I dammit! No doubt Dax and Kira and Worf and the others quite agree with you, and think I was being foolish to try and help those men, but the decision was mine to make, not theirs and not yours! You recall I did not attempt to stop you from leaving without me. The decision to stay behind and risk my own life was also my decision to make. Not anyone else's. Believe me I am trying to get passed all of this, so that we can carry on as we did before, but I..."

Miles was humbled. Just because Julian had refused to talk to him did not mean, after all, that he was trying to forget about him. On the contrary, he was trying to work his own way through the hurt feelings that were left behind. He sensed that Julian was lonelier than ever, and suddenly realised how important their friendship had been for Julian. If he had been willing to simply forget about Miles altogether, and dismiss their friendship as over, he would have had no difficulty in interacting with him. No awkwardness, the decision made. But there had been nothing but awkwardness. Miles blinked long and hard for a moment, then touched Julian's arm.

"I just want you to know this...I am sorry I hurt you so much. I should never have disobeyed your direct orders...but I was absolutely convinced that you would have been killed, sooner or later. I knew we had a chance of getting away, and I knew you wouldn't stop me if I pressed you about it...but I was damned if I was going to let you be killed if I could do anything to stop it. If I had obeyed you, and left you there, then come back later and found you dead, I would have blamed myself. You're a doctor. You know about wanting to save lives, to the exclusion of all else. That...that's how I felt. I felt that your doctor's instinct was blinding you, and that you would understand and forgive me later on. I'm sorry that you can't, but my feelings haven't changed Julian. I will die before I let anyone kill you, especially since all you ever want to do is help people. I did it then and I know I would do it again. If I can possibly save your life, even if it means disobeying your orders, or dying myself, I'll do it. If the price I have to pay for that is losing your friendship, then so be it..."

For the first time in a few weeks, he gazed at Julian unflinchingly. Julian knew Miles meant exactly what he said. He remembered how Miles had once disliked him, and had not been afraid of saying so. He, on the other hand, had liked and admired Miles O'Brien immensely, and had not given up seeking his friendship. Gradually Miles had grown to see and admire the man behind the facade, and the two had had, for a while, a very close and much envied friendship. Julian was much moved by Miles' words, and knew his old friend well enough to know the truth of them.

Searching his heart, he knew he still considered Miles his closest friend, and he knew he would have to make something of an effort to reach out before Miles gave up on him and started looking elsewhere for a friend.

"Listen Miles, I..."

To the astonishment of both of them, Julian's voice broke with emotion, forcing him to take a deep, steadying breath before continuing.

"...Miles, you're just going to have to be patient with me. I'm sorry I've been so distant with you, but it's going to take me a little while to get over this thing. I feel like a man with a torn ligament... it'll mend, but it'll ache for a while..."

Miles nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Miles returned from a few hours of sleep to the news that they were within long-range sensor of their destination.

"Barren desert or Ocean planet?" he asked flippantly.

Julian flicked a switch. A flood of information filled the screen.

"Cold mostly. Plenty of vegetation...like Britain in winter I'd say, minus the snow. Plenty of heat nearer the poles..."

Miles nodded, glancing at the twin suns that gave this system its extraordinary features. He slipped into the pilot seat beside Julian.

"Keep this speed Chief, orientation mark five two zero. Head for the northern pole. Activating active scan."

"Aye sir." O'Brien replied, concentrating on his controls.

He frowned.

"Doctor...Julian!"

He got no further, as Julian cried out at the same moment, both paralysed by the view through the view screen. An energy wave was heading towards them from far behind them, like a tidal-wave pushing ahead of it everything in its path.

"Chief!" Julian yelled, seeing what was coming. "Alter course for the equator, or the wave'll take us straight into the sun!"

"Angling the ship...I'll try to ride the wave if I can." He commented, frantically fighting for control of the ship.

"Prepare for a crash landing...going..."

A flare, a series of enormous jolts ripped through the ship, tearing through the bulkheads as if they were paper, and then nothing.


	2. Marooned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marooned and injured on an alien world with a destroyed runabout; can the two put their disagreement aside in order to escape?"

Part two

Pain...agonizing pain. It coloured everything. There had never been anything in the universe except for the pain...but finally, thankfully, it was disappearing, engulfed in the darkness.

Someone was calling him, frantically, urgently, but he was too comfortable to respond. The pain was gone here, the darkness closing quickly around him was not frightening now, promising of no more pain ever again. He started to relax to it, letting the blackness of death sweep him away, on the far side of the agonies he had undergone...

Panic seized O'Brien, as the low, steady tone of the medical tricorder recorded no heartbeat, no pulse. No! Not now! Julian can't possibly die, not now! Grabbing the medkit, he scrabbled inside it for the tricordrazine, frantically trying to remember the small amount of first aid he had picked up during his years in Starfleet. He applied the hypospray to Julian's neck. The tricorder's low monotone did not change.

"Julian!" Miles screamed, grabbing his friend and giving him a shaking, panic-stricken, "What do I do? How do I get you back? Julian!"

He laid the still form on his back and fighting off a bout of giddiness, started to apply mouth to mouth resuscitation, after a few minutes breaking off only to reapply another dose of the stimulant. Ten minutes passed in this manner, with no response...twenty minutes...a third and final dose of the stimulant... then suddenly Julian gave a convulsive heave and a splutter, as much a gasp of pain as a gasp of much needed air, and Miles uttered a silent prayer of thanks, as he scanned Julian quickly, and fumbling through the medkit, he sought the drug requested by the medical tricorder and dutifully gave the patient the required dose. The injection from the hypospray seemed to make breathing easier, and finally, Julian's eyelids fluttered open. Miles closed his eyes briefly, relief flooding through him like a wave. He sat there for a moment, feeling his head pounding, and the world around him still spinning. When it eased a little, he opened his eyes and found Julian was still there, inside those deep brown eyes. He seemed to be watching him.

"Don't you ever do that to me again Julian!" he said, his heart still thumping wildly, almost in rhythm with the pounding in his head.

"You damn well scared me half to death!"

"Sorry."

That was all he seemed to be able to manage to say for the time being. Miles left him lying on the floor of the mangled runabout, and scrambled across to what was left of the control panel. He kept up a steady stream of words, to give the dazed Julian something to focus on.

"I'm gonna try and do something with this communicator panel here. We've gotta get a message back to DS9. You need a doctor."

Julian tried to move, but Miles pushed him back.

"Lie still Julian. You've got a concussion...or so the tricorder says. I know you need to be kept awake...so stay awake, you hear? That's an order from your insubordinate subordinate."

Julian started to laugh, but it turned into a gasp of pain. When the spasm was over, he lay weakly on the floor.

"Thank you Miles. You brought me back didn't you?"

Miles shrugged.

"Nah, you just went into shock...or something...but I wasn't letting you get away that easily. You remember when I was dying, and you were taking care of me and trying to put together a broken communications device? Well, I can mend the communicator, but you're going to have to tell me what I need to do to help you. You see my medical knowledge is about as detailed as your engineering skills. You tell me what to do, and I'll sort it. Alright?"

Julian nodded. Beads of sweat were beginning to break out on his forehead.

"Keep the patient warm, and keep the patient awake. Hand me the tricorder."

Miles handed him the device, then removed his uniform shirt and wrapped it around Bashir's body, before scrambling away through the debris to find something more substantial to cover him. Julian opened the tricorder and scanned himself, then twisted it round and glanced at the readings. He looked up to find Miles stood over him with a blanket broken out of a survival kit in one of the protected lockers aft. Miles tucked him well up in the blanket, then raised an eyebrow.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What does the tricorder say Julian? How bad are your injuries?"

Julian shook his head weakly.

"Nothing that we can do anything about." he gasped. "Just keep talking to me and help me stay awake, and I'll be fine. You need to worry about mending that console. The sooner we get off this rock, the better."

Miles gazed at him thoughtfully for a while, then nodded, and set to work. Miles worked as steadily as he was able, in between the headache and the giddiness that kept recurring in waves, only not quite as bad as it had been at first. Miles assumed he had a slight concussion himself, and tried to take regular rests, but never for long. He was too worried about Julian, and getting that console working so they could get back to DS9 and help. He kept up a steady flow of words, saying whatever came into his head, breaking off occasionally to shake Bashir awake, or to tap his cheek.

"Come on kid, stay with me."

Bashir opened his eyes again, feeling his eyelids heavy as lead.

"I'd never realised how annoying it is for someone to keep prodding you awake when all you want to do is sleep!" he remarked drolly. Miles chuckled.

"I remember. Come on Julian, you need to talk to me. Tell me about your family."

A strange look came over Julian's face, but it passed quickly.

"Oh, I have an ordinary mother and an ordinary father who live in an ordinary house and do very ordinary things. What is there to say?"

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No, I'm an only child. I had an older brother, but he died before I was born..."

Julian broke off, beads of sweat running down his face, teeth tightly clenched. Miles watched, wishing he could do something, and feeling helpless.

Lieutenant Commander Worf, monitoring all Starfleet subspace bands, punched a command on his console then looked up quickly and barked;

"Major, I'm picking up a faint distress signal coming through the wormhole, Starfleet signature..."

Kira looked up.

"On speakers."

A burst of static attacked their ears as Worf put the signal on speakers, then he frowned and shook his head, trying to clear up the reception. Dax joined him at his console, and together they managed to clear some of the static and boost the reception. They were electrified when they heard O'Brien's voice coming through clearly now.

"...This is a distress call. Are you receiving me? Our ship has crash landed on Cimeira, one crewmember needs urgent medical attention. Please respond! This is Chief O'Brien of the Bajoran Space Station Deep Space Nine to anyone within range. This is a distress call..."

Kira raised her voice.

"Captain Sisko, I think you should hear this..."

Miles awoke with a start, cursing himself for having fallen asleep. He stood up and started pacing back and forth, trying urgently to stay awake. He looked with desperation at the injured man propped now against a tree. The crashed runabout had become too unsound to hide in, and Miles had had to grab what he could salvage and get Julian the hell out of there. The hurried journey, being carried into the cold for several hundred meters and lay on the ground had worsened an already critical situation. Julian had valiantly kept awake for over thirteen hours, but in the end even his strength and determination succumbed to cold and pain and shock and exhaustion. Just over an hour ago, according to the tricorder, Julian had slipped into a coma. Miles was sure that Julian knew exactly the full extant of his own injuries, and obviously how they should be treated, and yet he had said nothing.

Miles knew that he was truly better off in the dark, for otherwise he would likely be worrying about the man even more than he was already. Julian's face was worryingly pale, skin clammy, he was running a fever for which there was nothing in the medkit that had been salvageable that was any help. Every so often, Miles checked Julian's breathing and pulse rates, and both were getting weaker. If someone didn't hear their message and rescue them soon, it would be too late for Julian. His head whipped round as suddenly his commbadge bleeped.

Sisko's voice, warm and welcoming.

"Defiant to O'Brien!"

"This is O'Brien! Glad to hear your voice Captain! Julian's badly hurt sir. We have to get him to a doctor urgently!"

"Standby to beam up."

A moment later, the transporter beam took hold of them, and transported them both directly to Defiant's medical bay, where Doctor Girani was waiting for them. She bit her lip when she saw the state of her commanding officer, but without a word she set to work, in her concern, barking commands at the nurses. Girani glanced up, as she and her staff worked, noticing several crewmembers, including Sisko hanging around, waiting for news.

"Sir, er Captain," she said, nervously, "Please can we clear the room sir? The medical bay is not very large as it is, and we need to do all we can for Doctor Bashir. I promise I'll call you as soon as I have some news for you." Sisko nodded, recognising the signs of nerves in a junior doctor having to perform surgery on her own superior, having no one to call on should something go wrong. He withdrew, but O'Brien paused.

"Just tell me doctor...he is going to live isn't he?"

Girani nodded to her nurse, who propelled the Chief gently but firmly to the door.

"He is very seriously ill sir...we just don't know yet. Please go now. We'll call you the moment we have news. I promise."

The Defiant arrived at the station, but Girani and her assistants remained on board the Defiant. Even though the facilities there were much inferior to those on the station, their work was just too delicate to risk even a transporter. Finally, after an eternity to the staff in ops, but was perhaps a mere eight or nine hours after docking, Girani tapped her combadge.

"Ops, this is Girani on the Defiant. Three to transport direct to station sickbay."

"Energizing." came the reply, and a moment later, they were in sickbay, Julian, still unconscious, was on biobed one. Swiftly the biobed was activated, on full life support. Girani was still gazing hypnotically at the lifesign readings when Sisko, Dax and O'Brien almost skidded to a halt at the door. She looked round.

"How is he Doctor?" Sisko asked, approaching the bed.

Girani indicated the readings.

"He should have died in that crash Captain, and I don't know why or how he's still alive. Just about everything that could break or fracture, was broken or fractured...except for the neck and spinal region. Both mercifully intact. The skull was badly fractured, and caused a certain amount of brain trauma, the consequences of which cannot be determined until he wakes up...if he does. He suffered a great deal of internal damage, and profuse internal bleeding...frankly...I don't know what more I can do to help him. Chief..." She turned her attention to O'Brien.

"Mr O'Brien, seeing how badly doctor Bashir was hurt, it seems unlikely you came off totally unscathed. I would like to do some tests if you please."

O'Brien sighed at Sisko's nod.

"Very well Doc."

He sat on the edge of the next biobed, and watched as Girani scanned him thoroughly. After several minutes, she pushed his shoulder, until he was lying down.

"Captain, I am confining Chief O'Brien to sickbay until further notice."

Miles leapt up.

"What!? There's nothing wrong with me, honest!"

Girani opened her mouth to reply, when O'Brien lurched forward suddenly, and would have fallen had Sisko not caught him. Together, Sisko and Dax helped O'Brien back to the biobed and lay him down again.

"You had better stay where you are Chief." Sisko informed him.

"What happened?"

"Dizziness." O'Brien replied. "I guess I must have bumped my head when we crashed. I remember I had one or two dizzy spells for a while, and one hell of a headache, but I forgot about it once I found that Julian had stopped breathing. That just about knocked everything else out of my head."

Girani nodded.

"Well you have a problem there. I want you to lie still."

She fished out a hypospray and pressed it to his neck. Immediately, O'Brien's eyes closed and he slept.

"I'm sorry about that Captain. Chief O'Brien has suffered a severe blow to the head, which has caused an embullism...a blood clot, which is angry and active. The more the Chief moves around, the worse it gets. It can become dangerous if it is not treated. He needs to remain sedated so that I have a chance to operate."

"Will he be alright?" Dax asked. Girani nodded.

"He'll be fine Commander. I'm more concerned about Doctor Bashir. He is in a coma...and I don't know if he is ever going to come out of it."


	3. Comatose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian is in a coma, fighting for his life...

Part three

That evening, the senior staff had their prearranged meal together in Captain Sisko's quarters, but somehow, they felt things were just not the same. There was Ben Sisko and Jake, Dax, Kira, Worf and Odo...but the two clowns, Julian Bashir and Miles O'Brien were both missing. Without their joking around, things were just too muted. The party broke up with the knowledge of just how much would change if they happened to lose either of the two.

Girani released Miles from sickbay the following afternoon with the proviso that he take things easy for a day or two; and he was received back in ops with enthusiasm and not a little relief. Once things had calmed down slightly, Worf asked, in his deep, resonant tones, whether Doctor Bashir was showing any signs of recovery? Miles shook his head sadly.

"Doctor Girani's still worried. She's afraid she's too inexperienced, and that there might be something she could do that she hasn't done."

Dax nodded.

"She's used to having Julian to call on when she's unsure. She may not have as much knowledge or experience as Julian, but she's a very capable doctor in her own right. She has no need to worry about messing things up for him...I think I'll go down and talk to her."

She smiled, and entered the turbolift. When she was gone, Miles glanced at Kira and Worf, who were still looking at him.

"It's not looking good Major. His breathing has become too shallow and pulse very weak and irregular. He's fighting, but he's losing. I'm..I'm afraid we might lose him."

The others looked distressed. The Major put a hand on O'Brien's shoulder sympathetically.

"Did you manage to patch things up with him at all?"

Miles shrugged.

"Well, we made a start, just before that wave hit us. He apologised for being so stand-offish...at least I know he isn't angry with me anyway. Now I don't think he ever was really angry for very long."

"Is that what he said?"

Miles looked her in the eye.

"Not in as many words...but all the same, none of it will make any difference if he dies, will it?"

Kira said nothing, but the look in her eye spoke volumes. Dax arrived in sickbay, and learned that Doctor Girani had been on duty all night, and had gone back to her quarters to catch up on some sleep. She found her feet taking her to Julian's bedside, where she stared down at his still form. What was someone supposed to look like when they were in a coma? It was only a few months ago, when Julian had been in a coma before, after having been attacked by Altovar the bad-tempered Lethian. Dax could recall vividly the shocking speed of Julian's deterioration on that occasion, and within a few hours of the attack, he had been at death's door. Fortunately, Julian had survived...one of only a handful to have survived a lethian telepathic attack. This time was much the same, only he was so pale. He was so still that for all Dax knew he might have been dead already. Only the beeping of his life readings on the monitor reassured her, and that not very much. The line indicating his pulse rate was frighteningly slow and irregular, as was that showing his breathing. The full life support was still functioning, and would breathe for him, should it become necessary. Nurse Bandee came up beside her, shaking her head, as though in disbelief.

"You know Commander, I was working with him, just minutes before he left, and he was so alive...alert...and now...? I realise no one is indispensable sir, but all the same...we'll never get anyone else like him. Doctor Bashir is..."

Dax smiled, understanding how she felt.

"One in a million? I know what you mean." Bandee smiled softly. "I've worked with some stuffy doctors in my time, both male and

female. Starfleet doctors can be just as stuffy as civilian personnel, believe me...worse, some of them. Bashir is just so... different. He's young and enthusiastic, he loves his work, he's brilliant at it, completely dedicated to the welfare of his patients, which is rarer than you might think! He's a gem to work for. Never raises his voice, never complains about anything without good cause. Never takes himself too seriously either, which is, I think, just about unique in a doctor."

Dax laughed.

"What you mean is that he is still very naive at times, talks a lot, much of the time you don't understand a word he's talking about, but he makes you laugh and he is able to laugh at himself too...right?"

Bandee giggled.

"Something like that."

"Nurse, how is he doing?"

She pulled a face.

"Badly. He's getting weaker and weaker every hour that goes by. Brain activity is intermittent. At times it is off the scale, and at other times it's almost nonexistent. The overall trend of brain activity is a downward spiral and picking up speed."

Dax stared at her, open mouthed.

"You're convinced he's going to die. Aren't you?"

Bandee nodded. Dax shook her head.

"But this is Julian, the determined, enthusiastic livewire you were just talking about. He's more tenacious than a Targ. He won't give up, he'll fight on to his last breath."

Bandee stared at her, expression bland.

"He has almost reached it, Commander."

Despite the pervading pessimism regarding his chances, Julian Bashir, although extremely weak, hung on grimly to life, as though by his fingernails over a precipice. Once or twice he looked like losing hold, but somehow scraped through each crisis, leaving his crewmates marvelling at his strength of will. For their part, the station personnel missed seeing him about the station. He was a man whose very reliability was so constant that he was taken for granted by most people, so that once he was no longer around, he left a hole much bigger than the one he had previously filled. Quark's dartboard corner was conspicuously missing its two chief players. Miles avoided it. Playing the game seemed somehow wrong, now that Julian was not able to share it. Jadzia was fonder of Julian that she cared to admit, and she hated the thought that they might lose him. Julian was also a very good friend, a rare individual who would do absolutely anything to help someone in need. She missed being able to joke around with him at social gatherings.

Miles missed his friend wherever he was and whatever he was doing. So much of his life, he found, was pervaded by memories of things shared with Julian. Meals at home, games at Quark's or in one of the holosuites. One occasion that pained Miles the most was when he broke his thumb whilst trying to mend a broken seal-cap, and dashed into sickbay for Julian's help...but Julian was not there to greet him with that damned cocky grin of his and a cheery word. Instead it was Doctor Girani or one of the nurses who healed his thumb. Julian still lay comatose on a biobed in the next room. There was no cheery Julian in sickbay, or strolling along the promenade; no Julian making sly passes at Jadzia, playing darts with Miles or livening up staff meetings, either by making daft remarks at his own expense, or highly insightful comments revealing vague glimpses into depths that were for the most part, unknown by anyone...and only guessed at by Miles.

On the evening of the thirty-fourth day after the accident, Miles O'Brien sat in his quarters, frowning at the coffee table. Keiko came up behind him and ran her hand through his hair.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Guess."

Keiko came round and sat beside him. He put his arm around her but his face was still troubled.

"There's been no change?"

Miles shrugged.

"None. Doctor Girani says that physically he is still getting weaker. You should see him Keiko...he's thinner than ever. Apparently his body is just not absorbing the nutrients...he's too weak. Keiko, how can anyone keep going like this even for this long? I hate to see him like this. He's still so young. He's too damn young to die!"

Keiko grasped her husband's hand and squeezed it lovingly.

"We all die sooner or later my love. That's the part we all have to accept when we join Starfleet. It can happen any time, to anyone. Remember Tasha Yar? She was so young and strong, with years ahead of her. It's not fair...but it happens, and we have to live with it. Julian joined Starfleet with his eyes wide open, knowing all the risks involved, and accepted them."

Miles growled.

"I know, I know! But it doesn't get any easier."

"How long since you've been in to see him?"

"Two days now. He looks so awful, I couldn't bear it any more."

"You're off duty tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Thirty-six hours off duty."

"Then go to see Julian. You know what they say about people in a coma being aware of those who visit them and talk to them."

"What about our romantic evening you had all planned?"

Keiko shook her head.

"We can have our romantic dinner another time, but your best friend needs you Miles."

Miles turned suddenly and kissed his wife, long and full on the lips. He got up, bent and gave her a final peck on the nose.

"I love you Keiko."

When he reached the infirmary, he found Julian looking almost transparent. Even with the full life support, his breathing was laboured and painful, as if it was just too much trouble. Girani was looking very stricken.

"You know Chief, I could just do with doctor Bashir's help right now...he would know how to help that patient over there."

She indicated Julian's still form. Miles nodded.

"A shame we can't ask him isn't it?"

He sat on a chair beside Julian's biobed, and regarded the closed eyes thoughtfully.

"Sorry I've not been by for a couple of days Julian...I...er I was..." he faltered, the words dying on his lips. What was he talking about? Why was he even bothering? Then man was unconscious! He was in a coma. He couldn't hear a darned thing, so what was the point?

"Julian, you've been lying here for five weeks now man, five weeks! Things are happening, you're getting older and you don't even know it! Everyone tells me you should be dead, but you can't even get that right can you? You can't just die and get it over with, you keep us all here hanging around and waiting for you! Damn it man, can't you just make up your mind and be done with it once and for all? If you're going to die, then die now and put us all out of your misery! If you're going to live, then hurry up about it, because there's work to be done and you're needed around here!"

He got up and stalked frustratedly the length of the infirmary. He heard a sudden soft bleep from thc monitor and turned back. He frowned. Wasn't that reading a little lower a moment ago?

"Doctor!" he called. Girani turned tired eyes toward her patient and gave a small cry. She hurried across the room and grabbed her medical tricorder, and scanned the body. Miles watched her carefully.

"Well? Is it good or bad?"

"The life support systems have shut themselves down...he's started breathing on his own...pretty well too!"

"Not waking up yet?"

"No...but it's the first hopeful sign we've had so far!"

Miles nodded to her.

"Well go on doc! You have to tell the good news to ops!"

She nodded and pressed her combadge.

"Infirmary to Captain Sisko!"

"Go ahead doctor." Came Sisko's deep voice.

"I just want to report a change in Doctor Bashir's condition captain. He's taken a turn for the better. The life support is deactivated...he's breathing on his own sir."

"Thank you doctor. I'll pass on the good news."

That day, the mood on the station seemed to lighten perceptibly as the news of Julian's slight improvement was spread. The Bajoran personnel were particularly fond of Bashir, as the doctor had done a good deal of work on behalf of disease victims on the planet. Miles, Kira, and Dax met at Quark's for a celebratory drink after work.

"Here's to Julian and a full recovery."

Dax sipped her synthale and glanced at her two companions.

"You know Miles, this has all happened before. You and Julian have both been dead before. Kira and I sat here and drank a toast to your memory...then you came back from the dead. Then Julian was attacked by a Lethian, one of their deadly telepathic attacks mind you, and we know that he's going to die...because people always do from Lethian telepathic attacks...but then what happens?"

Kira grinned.

"He recovered all on his own."

Miles nodded.

"Of course, he has a habit of beating the odds doesn't he? Like a cork from a bottle, you can't push him down, he'll just pop straight up. You really think he is going to do it again Dax? Beat the odds again?"

Dax shrugged.

"Why break the habit of a lifetime? I must admit there was a point when I was starting to wonder if he'd be able to pull it off, but I think he will..."

The three fell silent, each thinking the same thoughts. The words had been bravely spoken, but after all, the man had only taken one step. There were still several hundred more...

The light was blinding at first, and it was painful to look up, so he closed his eyes. That was much more comfortable. After a bit, he tried opening his eyes again, and this time with more success. He felt incredibly sleepy, and was having difficulty keeping his eyes open, but at least it no longer hurt to look at the light...or not very much anyway. He knew there was something he needed, but he couldn't remember what it was. He ached all over, and he was still so sleepy. He didn't want to fall asleep again, and he wasn't sure of the reason for that either. His eyes closed by themselves, and try as he might, he couldn't open them.

Frantically, trying to open his eyes, he tried to move his hand so as to rub them...

Miles glanced up from his padd and stared, transfixed.

"Nurse!" he yelled. The male nurse hurried over. He stared for a moment at the hand, scrabbling lightly at the sheet, and hurried across the room and picking up a hypospray, he swiftly loaded it with something and pressed it to Julian's neck. For a moment nothing happened...and then, slowly, Julian's eyes opened.

Miles and the nurse looked down at him, their faces slowly registering delight. The nurse pressed his hand against his combadge.

"Doctor Girani, please report to the infirmary immediately."

"On my way." came a tense voice. Miles looked into Julian's eyes. Nine weeks in a coma was a hell of a long time, and he had been so ill for most of that time, was it still Julian inside? Had his brain suffered anything in the accident?

Julian smiled. A slow, weak smile, but undoubtedly a smile.

"Hello Miles...I know we had a slight disagreement, but don't you think crashing us into a planet was a bit drastic?"


	4. Humiliation and Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian has awakened finally from his coma, but his troubles are only just beginning . . .

Part four

Miles grasped Julian's hand.

"How do you feel?"

Julian paused, and a pained look came into his eyes.

"Scared..."

Doctor Girani was not used to addressing the senior staff. That was Bashir's job. She looked round at all the expectant faces. Sisko...O'Brien...Dax...Kira...Odo...Worf. She cleared her throat and sat down in Bashir's vacant chair.

"I'm sorry I'm late..."

Sisko smiled.

"That's alright Doctor. Just give us your report."

"Well, Doctor Bashir has finally come out of his coma, and his mental faculties are...quite intact."

There was a buzz of pleasure round the table. Girani waited until there was silence, then continued.

"He is still very unwell...he has certain internal injuries that have not responded well to treatment and a number of complications have arisen as a result. I am confident that these setbacks will be temporary. However, there is, I'm afraid, one serious problem. The brain trauma he suffered in the impact has caused neural shock in the cerebellum..."

O'Brien looked round.

"Cerebellum?"

Dax looked very worried.

"The cerebellum is the part of the brain that controls our muscle movements and coordination." She replied.

Girani nodded.

"The Commander is correct Captain. It means that Doctor Bashir is presently incapable of walking, balancing very well, or in fact using his motor muscles at all. The cerebellum is not sending or receiving signals. He is, effectively, paralysed. Hopefully this condition will clear up by itself. Otherwise..."

There was a long silence. Everyone was deeply shocked. No one could imagine the torture of being mentally sound, and yet physically paralysed...which was what the doctor's news amounted to. It was Kira who broke the silence.

"If he doesn't get well on his own doctor, isn't there some kind of training program that can teach his muscles, or his brain to work again...?"

"There are of course, but..."

The pessimism in her voice was impossible to ignore. Finally Chief O'Brien stood up.

"Doctor, I'm sorry if this is disrespectful, but in my opinion, for what it is worth, Doctor Bashir has already recovered when you said it was very unlikely. He survived when he should have died. Surely, given a bit of time, he'll be alright? He'll be back on duty as Chief Medical Officer of this station within a couple of weeks."

Girani shook her head.

"I'm sorry Chief, having so much confidence in him is admirable, but I'm afraid that in this case it is just wishful thinking."

Sisko raised an eyebrow.

"Let's hope for his own sake that Julian can pull another rabbit out of his hat, people."

It was another ten days or so before Julian was well enough to leave the infirmary. During his time lying in bed, he had spent many hours trying in vain to move his arms, or his legs. Even his toes wouldn't move. He wanted to weep with frustration. If his injuries were physical, he might have been able to find a way to come to terms with it, but this? Never! Knowing that, in laymen's terms, his problem was purely psychological was damned frustrating, and humiliating. Neural shock of the cerebellum indeed! All it needed was something to set the neurons firing properly again.

He refused to stay in sickbay, and insisted on returning to his quarters. Miles was upset.

"Julian, how are you going to cope, living alone in your quarters? You can't walk or dress yourself, feed yourself...man you can't even use the toilet without someone's assistance...how on earth..."

Julian's iron composure suddenly collapsed, giving Miles his first glimpse of the terrified little boy underneath, and yet even through it all, his strength of will, his determination to succeed at any cost was unchanged.

"Damn it Miles, I know all that! I know it! It's damned bloody humiliating! How do you think it feels, being taken care of like a baby? Being fed and dressed by another person, to say nothing of...the other things? I damn well won't do it anymore. I know I can beat this thing. It won't be easy, but I'm going to do it. If I have to do things myself, without anyone else around, then I'll have a good reason to succeed won't I?"

Miles was pushing his friend in a wheelchair, using the ramps previously put in for the Elysian Cartographer, Melora. Still finding it virtually impossible to sit up unaided, he had found it also hard to stay sat up properly in the chair. He kept sliding out, until a set of straps had been fitted. Feeling angry, embarassed and humiliated, Julian was strapped into the wheelchair like a small child. They reached Julian's quarters and went in.

"Here Julian, look at this."

Miles disappeared into the bedroom and reappeared with Melora's self-powered wheelchair with the hand control attachment.

"I know you can't move your hand, but I know you will if you keep trying hard enough Julian. Try it now, and see how you get on."

"Wait..."

Miles stood by and watched as his friend; strong, healthy, athletic Julian struggled to get up out of the chair, but to no avail. Almost weeping with annoyance at himself, Julian allowed Miles to lift him up bodily and transfer him to the other chair. The straps were once again duly fastened, then Miles placed Julian's left hand on the control.

"See if you can manage to move it."

Julian tried...and tried...and tried...then suddenly shifted his shoulders slightly and the chair jerked forward. He shifted again, and the chair moved again. Grinning, Miles watched as Julian practised. Unable to move his hands, the ever adept Julian had found a way of shifting his shoulders in such a way that his hand was tilted on the control pad. With practise, he was able to take the chair anywhere he wanted to go.

He nodded to Miles.

"Okay, now I can either use this chair or be transported to anywhere on the station I want to go to. So far so good. Now I need to find a way to get these neurons to fire. Once they do I can train them to do what i want them to, but first we need a little research...Miles, are you willing to help me?"

Miles, open mouthed, nodded.

"I have an hour before my next duty shift..."

"Good, then come along."

Julian headed for the doorway. Miles ran after him.

"Where are we going?" he called.

"My lab!" Julian called back, putting on an extra spurt of speed from the chair and vanishing round the bend in the corridor.

Miles caught up with his friend at last, in the lab.

"How did you do that Julian? I thought you couldn't move any of your muscles at all? I thought you were completely paralysed?"

Julian shook his head.

"It's neural shock Miles, it caused the neurons to stop firing, which is why no commands are getting through to my muscles. But if there was nothing at all happening, I'd be just like a big lump of jello. I can control internal muscles...bowels and bladder for instance, and some of the outer ones, like my head and neck, main torso. It's only arms, legs and balance I've lost...but I'll get it back soon enough. It's just a question of re-firing those neurons. Now Miles, have you still got that Medical tricorder from my room?"

Miles produced it, and Julian nodded approvingly.

"Excellent. Now set it for full body scan, then feed the information into the main computer."

Miles complied, and the screen was suddenly filled with a flow of information. It meant nothing at all to him, so he simply watched, as Julian took in the information and started barking indecipherable commands at the computer. After a while, Julian frowned, and sat silently, staring at the computer screen, biting his lip. Miles waited for a while, then overcome with concern and curiosity, he prompted him.

"Well Julian? Any ideas?"

He nodded.

"I think so...yes I'm sure. It's so simple. Simple neural stimulation using an electronic neuronal transmogrifier."

"...a what?"

"If you have an engine that doesn't work because its power source...like a battery is dead, you either need a new battery, or a new power source to re-start the engine. Perhaps a temporary connection to another engine. Once the engine starts firing, it keeps itself going by its own power...right?"

Miles nodded, mystified.

"A bit simplistic...but basically that's right enough. What's that got to do with...?"

"Well, you might say the brain is like an engine. The spark of life is in us from the moment we are conceived. When we die, we can sometimes re-ignite that spark of life, using artificial stimulants, like drugs or passing a mild electrical current through the body to re-start the heart. There are ways doctors now can do the same thing with the brain, up to thirty minutes after death. Once the brain is re-started, the brain revives the body, obviously. But up until this point, it is only effective on a dead person. I mean, my cerebellum can be shocked back into life using the same revival technique, but it would be extremely dangerous to the healthy parts of my brain...like a massive overload. I would be likely to quite literally blow a fuse. Could even mean death. The only way we could achieve our purpose is to find a way to focus the ray to a specific part of the brain."

"If you can find a way to focus it to stimulate just the damaged part of the brain, you'd be able to get right up out of your chair and walk away?"

Julian shook his head ruefully.

"Not quite that fast. The neurons would be firing again, but they've been out of commission for nearly three months. They may need to completely re-learn everything. I might have to learn to walk again, just like a baby; to re-learn to use my muscles, just like a toddler...there's no way to know. Besides, by now, there will have been a considerable amount of muscle wastage..."

"How long before you would be able to go back on duty?"

"I don't know. I have the advantage that most of my brain still knows what's going on...I still know exactly how to operate and how to play racquetball...it would be a case of building up my strength again, then of practising my coordination, doing small tasks with a steady hand that doesn't shake. How long does that take? Days or weeks?"

"So...do you know how to refocus that equipment Julian? 'Coz I have no idea."

Julian frowned.

"Maybe, just give me some time to think about it."

Miles nodded and sat down to work on his padd. About twenty minutes later, Julian cried out.

"Miles! I think I've got it! Come on, we have to get back to the infirmary."

Miles moved to the door, but Julian had already ordered the computer to activate the communications systems.

"Bashir to ops. Please transport two to the infirmary."

"Acknowledged doctor."

The lab faded out from around them, and was replaced by sickbay, and the medical team on duty. They were surprised at O'Brien and Bashir's sudden appearance.

"Are you feeling alright sir?" Bandee asked Bashir, full of concern. Bashir waved her concern away with a toss of his head.

"Where's doctor Girani?"

"Taking her lunch break sir. Shall I call her?"

"Not for now. You can manage this for me I'm sure. Please fetch the neutraliser, and the..."

Julian propelled himself across the room and chivvying the nurses before him, he had them fetching and carrying for him, then he turned back to Miles.

"Listen Miles, this is where I need you. I need you to connect these two things together."

"Hang on Julian, before I do that, I need to know what they are and what they do."

"The small object sits across the forehead, and is used for neutralising mild neural infections, breaking down and dispersing aneurisms and repairing damaged arteries. This larger piece of equipment is the neural stimulator I told you about. They need to be connected so that I can channel the functions of the stimulator through the neutraliser, so that we can target a tiny area, rather than blitz the whole brain...get the idea?"

Miles nodded slowly, his mind working furiously.

"In that case I'll need to reverse fields in order to channel the power...yes, I think it can be done...but once they're joined Julian, the neutraliser will be useless for any other purpose."

Julian nodded.

"I realise that, but this is an old model, never used, and perfect for this adaptation. How long do you think it'll take?"

"Two hours maybe?"

When Doctor Girani was brought up to date, by Doctor Bashir himself, she was stunned, and greatly impressed. She secured the assistance of lieutenant commander Dax, for help in operating the delicate machinery. Although Dax was no doctor, she was highly versed in microbiology, and techtronics as well as other things, and would be invaluable. Dax too was impressed, both by Bashir's self discipline...determination to get stuck in and do something to help himself, rather than sit and wallow in self pity as she suspected she might have done in his place; and by his pure ingenuity. It was such a simple idea too, to combine two ideas in order to create a third, otherwise impossible choice.

Bashir however, once he realised he was faced with a brain operation of which he would not be in full control himself, started to get jittery. He explained the principles several times to Girani and Dax, determined that they should understand fully what needed to be done. Any problems halfway through the procedure, and he would be in no position to help them at all. Dax patted him on the shoulder and nodded at Girani, who advanced with the hypospray.

"There's no need to worry Julian, you've trained us well. Now relax, and let us make you better, huh?"

Julian's eyes slowly closed, as the effect of the hypo started to take effect. Over his sleeping form, Dax and Girani's eyes met.

"Now we've put him back to sleep again...let's hope it isn't another nine weeks before we get him back." Girani commented. "let's get started."

In ops, the crew found concentrating on their tasks very difficult. Only that very morning Julian had been released from sickbay, doomed to live for the forseeable future in a wheelchair, his future dependant on something that might never happen. Yet, within a few hours, he had researched his own complaint, with O'Brien's help, devised an ingenius way to heal himself, and invented the machine with which to accomplish it...and now he was again unconscious, undergoing the operation he had himself invented that very day. His prowess as a doctor was now very well established; if this procedure actually worked, his reputation would travel beyond this system to the far corners of the quadrant.

O'Brien was fiddling with Kira's computer terminal, Kira was working on Dax's console, since Dax was in the infirmary helping doctor Girani. Worf was making no pretense at all. He did not much care for Bashir, but he had respect for the man's undeniable skill and expertise, and was in no hurry for Bashir to be replaced with someone else, with whom he might have even less in common. He examined the traffic lanes and communications grids with a growl and a frown. Sisko remained in his office, tossing his baseball from hand to hand in an attempt to appear relaxed and at ease. Nobody could deny the horrific possibilities of a procedure like this one failing. Julian might be aggravating and irritating at times, but he was brilliant, compassionate and caring...and everyone wanted him to fully recover, to know that Bashir was once again on duty, ready to help them at a moment's notice whenever anything went wrong; illness, accident or injury. A doctor that could heal himself as Julian had done even so far, was worth his weight in latinum.

Finally the waiting was too much for O'Brien, who slammed his fist down on the console, making everyone jump.

"Damn it, they've been three and a half hours now! How much longer do we have to wait!?"

Kira rested a placatory hand on his shoulder.

"It's brain surgery Miles...delicate stuff. The longer they take the better. One slip and Julian's gone...you know?"

Miles nodded.

"I'm sorry Kira...it's just that...well you know, it's Julian down there...our Julian Bashir...not some stranger passing through! It's Julian having this brain surgery. Why the hell did it have to happen to him instead of to me? I know he would have been able to help me..."

"You trust him Miles...trust him now. If he thought doctor Girani wasn't up to the job, he would have sent for another surgeon better qualified. Anyway, it might have been both of you instead of just one of you. Then where would we be? Try to relax. When they're ready, they'll call us."


	5. If at first you don't suceed. . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The senior staff wait for Julian to come out of surgery. Will it be successful? Or is Julian doomed to be paralysed for the rest of his life?

The wait seemed interminable, but of course, eventually, it came. Sisko emerged from his office with a bland expression on his face.

"People...I just got a call from doctor Girani."

He looked round at all the expectant faces, and his face broke into a wide grin.

"The operation is over, and Girani says they have been completely successful in refiring all the neurons in Bashir's cerebellum. They believe, if everything goes to plan, Julian should make a complete recovery."

The momentary stunned silence was broken by a cheering from every crewmember in ops. O'Brien turned to Kira.

"Permission to leave my post sir?"

Kira smiled.

"Granted, Chief. Give him all our regards."

O'Brien grinned at all the heads nodding in agreement and headed for the turbolift without wasting another moment.

In sickbay, O'Brien found Bashir was still sleeping. He looked questioningly at Dax, who smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry Chief. We're keeping Julian heavily sedated for a while, until the pattern stabilises."

"And it all went well?"

Girani came out, removing her operating gown and nodded, smiling.

"We had to do each cluster seperately which was why it took so long, but there were no serious setbacks. A few hours will tell if the effect is permanent or temporary."

Miles grinned, determined never to doubt his friend ever again.

"Don't worry doc'." he said confidently. "It'll be permanent."

The next morning Julian awoke on his own, and found Dax sat beside his bed, smiling down at him.

"Jadzia!" he said softly, "Hello."

"Hello Genius. Your plan worked, Julian. Very well indeed."

He frowned for a moment, then memory came flooding back to him.

"The refiring...it worked?"

She nodded.

"I know it's still a little soon, but see if you can use any of your muscles yet. Try lifting a leg or arm...even a finger?"

He looked down at his left arm and frowned at it, beads of sweat breaking out in his concentration...then slowly his middle finger lifted of the bed...then his index finger. Dax's smile widened as Julian's hand lifted slowly in the air. Blinking through the sweat, he slowly moved his index finger and thumb together, touching them together gently, then flexed his whole hand, opening and closing it, feeling the life coming back to it again. He looked up at Dax, starting to smile.

"It's working Dax...it's really working! I knew it had to work! Let's see what else works, shall we?"

Straining hard, he flexed his whole arm bending it at the elbow several times, then did the same with the right arm, until he could feel a little strength returning. Slowly he pushed himself away from his pillows until he was sitting upright, eyes tightly closed. One arm was still braced against the back of the bed, which was raised to an angle. He was breathing heavily.

"Julian you should rest now." Dax said, worriedly.

"No I'll be fine. I've just been lying down so long...I'm a little dizzy. It'll pass. Here, you'll have to help me for a minute."

Dax held him upright until he felt ready, then slowly released her hold, her arms braced ready to grab him if he looked like falling back down; but he was fine. He opened his eyes cautiously and grinned at her.

"Give me a week and I'll be back on the racquetball court with Miles again." he declared.

At the insistance of both Girani and Dax, Julian remained in sickbay for the rest of the day, so that Girani could personally make sure he did not try and do too much on his first day.

"You can think about doing more tomorrow if all checks out, but today you stick with sitting and building up strength in your arms. Balancing and walking will take more than a few minutes to master again, and if you have sufficient strength in your arms and hands first, you can use them to move around with crutches or canes until you're stronger."

Julian nodded. He agreed that the advice was exactly what he would have given to someone else. It was hard to be on the receiving end, but the advice was nevertheless sound.

He was exhausted. The whole of the following day, he had spent in one of Quark's holosuites, in a gymnasium program, practising upper arm and torso strengthening exercizes over and over again until sweat poured off him. Now that he could use his hands and arms again, and was able to sit up unaided, he found he could manage adequately in his quarters without any need to bring in outside assistance, but it was still hard work. In the evening, he was invited to Captain Sisko's home with the rest of the

senior staff to a meal in celebration of his recovery.

Dax arrived first, and sniffed the air with approval.

"Hmmm! Smells delicious. What is it?"

"Katariian souffle and Rogarr stew." Jake replied with a grin. Dax nodded. It had been a favourite of Torias.

A moment later the door chime went again, and Kira entered. She too sniffed the air and nodded.

"Hmmm. is that Rogarr I smell? Just what I need after a day like I've had."

Dax grinned.

"What kind of day have you had?"

"Paperwork. Requisitions, crew reports, staff evaluations...

somehow they all came up at the same time today. I can't believe I got it all finished on time. I hate paperwork!"

Sisko turned away from his cooking and showed her all his teeth in a wide grin.

"That's what first officers are there for Major! That must be O'Brien. Enter!"

Miles entered, looking weary. He had spent so much time worrying about and then helping Julian in the last few days that his own work schedule had got slightly behind. He had been working like mad all day trying to catch up in order not to miss the party. He grinned.

"Hi people!" he called. "That smells good. Anyone seen Julian today?"

Dax nodded.

"I looked in on him this morning. He's been in the holosuite all day, exercizing."

Sisko looked up in surprise.

"All day?"

Dax nodded.

"Why, didn't you expect him to?"

"Somehow I expected him to spend half his time fussing around doctor Girani in sickbay, trying to take over his job again."

Dax shook her head.

"That's not Julian Ben. Julian is the man so determined to be the best doctor in the quadrant that he demands the best standards from his staff, and from himself. He'll kill himself trying to get back to full fitness, but he won't insist on going back on duty himself until he's reached his own standards of perfection."

Miles nodded.

"She's right captain. Julian won't be happy until he's strong enough to wrestle a Klingon Targ. Talking about Klingons, where's Worf...and Odo too?"

"Here."

The door opened, and Worf entered, followed closely by Odo, pushing Julian in his wheelchair. Worf's scowl was almost nonexistent, and Odo was smiling gently. Julian looked very tired indeed. At their appearance, everyone stopped what they were doing and clapped. Julian turned slightly pink about the ears. Miles stepped forward, and handed Julian a newly replicated pair of crutches.

"To the man who brought true life to the ancient saying; `doctor, heal thyself'" he said solemnly, "These are for you, to start using when you are ready. They're designed to only last for a very short time, since none of us expects you to be hobbling on crutches for any longer than you have to. Congratulations on not being dead yet, despite my earnest efforts!"

Everyone laughed, and Julian chuckled.

"Thanks everyone...I'm not sure what I did to deserve this, but the crutches will come in handy for a day or two. Listen everyone, I think I need to apologise, now, while I have the chance. Some weeks ago, Miles and I, whilst on an away mission had a disagreement, which ultimately led to our being sent off alone in that runabout the other week to force us to work things out properly. It was my foolish pride that brought about the rift in the first place, and if I had behaved as I should have, as a Starfleet officer, none of this would have happened. DS9 would not have been deprived of its Chief Medical Officer for so long, and doctor Girani would not have been forced to work as hard as I know she has been doing under very trying circumstances. Thanks for being so kind to me and patient with me. WHEN I get back on my feet, I promise to do everything in my power to make up to all of you for letting you all down so badly."

There was a stunned silence, while everyone drank in all that he had said, then Sisko stepped forward and shook Bashir's hand.

"Julian, nobody is perfect, and you have nothing to be apologizing about. You suffered a horrendous accident; we almost lost you several times, and yet you fought and survived. Not only that, you found a way to correct your own paralysis, invented a machine with which to carry out the operation, and tutoured the medical staff on how to operate...do I need to go on doctor? I shall expect you to write a paper...or perhaps, Commander Dax should write the paper. She won't omit certain details that you would. Starfleet Medical will be very interested to read it, as will every doctor in starfleet. Now, can we all stop this gloom please? This is a party!"

Julian did his best to be his usual self for the evening, but his feelings of guilt persisted despite Sisko's heartening words, and he was very tired...so very tired. He had been in a coma for over two months, and then sick for a further week and a half. He had only been up and around for a couple of days, and he had spent all his time working in one way or another. He knew he was putting his body through more than it was really strong enough to bear at the moment, and all he wanted to do was sleep. His friends on the other hand, were so happy to have him back with them again, he didn't want to disappoint them.

Finally, around twenty hundred hours, (eight o'clock in the evening), Miles sat down beside him.

"How are you doing, Julian? You look beat."

Julian nodded.

"I think I've overdone it a little..."

Suddenly Julian's eyes rolled back in on themselves, and he slid sideways in his chair. Miles propped him up, whilst tapping his combadge at the same time.

"Medical team to the Captain's quarters."

Everyone turned and crowded around. Sisko shooed them all back a little way.

"I think we've overdone it folks. He's not been out of the infirmary for very long, and he's been very sick. Perhaps we did this a little too soon. We did almost lose him."

Everyone agreed silently, as they stood and watched their friend and comrade, unconscious on Miles' shoulder. He had pushed himself and pushed himself until he had collapsed, and he had done it, not so much for himself, but for them. His words earlier had shown that.

The next morning Julian was surprised to find himself waking up in the infirmary. It was a disconcerting thing for any doctor to find himself horizontal in his own sickbay, and Julian sat up, for a moment or two wondering what had happened, and how badly embarassed should he be? He looked round. His wheelchair was nowhere in sight, and he cursed his jellified legs, as he swung them out of bed one at a time and perched on the edge.

"Hey doctor, where do you think you're off to?"

It was a strange human female, about thirty or so years of age, and attractive with short cropped blond hair and green eyes. She was dressed in starfleet blue. She smiled.

"Doctor Bashir? I'm doctor Hayley Limarr, on temporary transfer from the science vessel Grissom. I'll be working with doctor Girani until you're back on duty, sir."

He nodded.

"Here on request by Captain Sisko?"

"Yup. I specialise in physiotherapy, helping patients gain the maximum mobility possible after damage to their motor cortex. It seems Starfleet Medical value your work here, and want you to have the best help they can provide."

"Then it was you who moved my chair?"

She grinned.

"No chair. Not any more. From now on we work, then rest, then work, then rest. No taking refuge in a wheelchair. You've been working on building up the muscles in your arms and hands I understand?"

"I've been practicing lifting weights, and practicing the control of them, also doing small tasks, like writing with an old fashioned pencil, and threading a needle by hand."

"Hand strength, muscle control, steadiness, coordination...? Very good. How are you getting along?"

Julian nodded.

"Fine. Not as fast as I would like, but progressing."

"Rome wasn't built in a day, doctor. I want to see what you can do so far."

She put him through a series of tests involving strength, stamina, concentration, coordination and other things using his hands and arms. Afterwards she nodded approvingly.

"Still physically weak, which is the only reason you've been unable to progress any further than you have already. Your hand and muscle control though is certainly within normal parameters. If you could sit rather than stand, I'd say you're just about fit enough to return to surgery...but we need to build up your physical strength before you have any chance of getting on your feet."

He frowned.

"Why?"

Limarr raised an eyebrow.

"You're a doctor and you have to ask me that? Have you always been a skinny as this? Starfleet uniforms are made to measure, you know that...and yours looks far too big. Why are you wearing uniform anyway?"

"Er...habit I suppose, and yes, I've lost a little weight. I was in a coma for a long time doctor...I would have lost some body mass..."

"Alright, well, a new diet of high energy foods. You need to put on a little weight. Not too much of course, but enough to make you look like a man again, rather than a skeleton stretched over with skin. As you should know well enough doctor, an undernourished person will take much longer to recover from any weakness than a well nourished person. So, first things first. Food."

She scooped her arms around Bashir's knees and armpits and lifted him bodily. She grinned at his indignant face.

"Embarassed? Good, then you will be cooperating with me won't you, rather than arguing as you have done so far. We are going to the promenade, and you are going to eat."


	6. The Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Julian begins to recover from his injuries, he and Miles have something to discuss...

It was a very red faced Julian who was carried physically from the infirmary to the promenade, passed a blur of surprised faces, and finally seated at a table on the upper level in Quark's. He endeavoured to slide as far down in his seat as he could. Limarr looked amused.

"How many people here are aware that you cannot walk?"

Still pink about the ears, Julian shrugged.

"Everyone I suppose...if they didn't know, they do now."

"Do they all believe your paralysis is permanent? How many know by now that you've devised an operation to heal your condition?"

"Word gets around fast on DS9. Probably half of them know by now."

"So why be embarassed?"

Finally, Julian cracked a smile.

"You're right of course, but all the same, it's humiliating being dependent on someone else. About a year or two ago, I tried to make someone else see how daft it is to feel that way, but I see now how different it is when it is happening to you."

Doctor Limarr nodded in satisfaction.

"So you're learning empathy? You'll end up a better doctor for this experience. You won't always have people willing to carry you everywhere, so I suggest you enjoy it while you can."

Bashir laughed.

"I'll try. By the way, please call me Julian."

"Hayley. So, what are you eating?"

Julian found that he was not hungry, and when Hayley took the liberty of ordering for him, he was dismayed at the size of the meal set down before him. Hayley bullied him into eating every morsel of the calorie laden, high protein meal, and although afterwards he felt so stuffed he could hardly move, he did feel a lot better for it. His headache was finally gone, and that horrible shakiness inside, although not gone altogether, it was greatly improved.

Hayley delivered him at his quarters early that evening, and left, leaving only his ancient model hand-powered wheelchair at hand, the one that was too wide to fit through the door of his quarters without being disassembled...

Miles called round on his way home around twenty-one hundred hours, knowing full well his friend would not be asleep. Julian greeted him with relief.

"Miles! please tell me you're here to rescue me from my jailer!"

Miles, grinning from ear to ear, shook his head.

"Sorry Julian. I'm under orders not to take you to Quarks or the holosuite or anywhere. You're to rest."

"Whose orders?" he asked suspiciously.

"Doctor Limarr, who holds the rank of lieutenant commander, so you can't countermand her orders."

Julian shook his head sadly.

"Foiled again. Come on Miles, since you're here, you can help me to walk."

"Aren't you supposed to wait for the doc' to okay it?"

"Oh nonsense!" Julian replied, "I know me better than she does. Anyway, with you here to bully me, I won't be able to overdo it will I? Come on, give me your arm and let me pull myself up."

Miles stood by, steady as a rock, and let Julian grab his arm. He was surprised at the sheer strength he could already feel in Julian's grip, as the younger man, using the strength in his arms only, pulled himself bodily to his feet.

He stood at last, hanging on to Miles with all his weight. Miles did not move a muscle, but supported his friend sturdily.

"Are you alright Julian?" he asked in concern, as he saw his friend close his eyes and start to breathe more heavily. Julian's eyes opened and regarded him solemnly.

"I'm fine Miles...just a little dizzy that's all...the altitude you see...the air is a bit thin up here!"

Miles giggled helplessly, and Julian joined in.

"Oh dear, stop laughing Miles, I'm going to lose it soon."

After a few minutes, the dizziness passed and Julian started to lessen his grip, cautiously.

"Stand by to catch me Miles...I'm going to let go and try to keep my balance."

Miles took a step back to give his friend some room, and slowly they let go of each other. Julian stood there, unsupported and unwavering. His face gradually broke into a wide grin, and suddenly forgetting himself, he took a step forward. Immediately, his knees buckled, and he landed in a heap on the floor. He could have wept with frustration; but at least he was progressing.

The next day, Doctor Limarr said very little when she heard of the happenings of the evening before, and Julian could sense her mixed feelings. Her concern over his health was battling with her admiration for his determination. She would not hear of him trying to walk yet, but took him back to her holosuite gymnasium program, and devised a number of exercizes designed to strengthen his leg muscles, and his knees and ankles particularly...since those were the ones that would take most of his weight and would need re-training. Progress was frustratingly slow at times, but steady.

After a week or so of intensive therapy with doctor Limarr, he was strong enough to hobble about the station on crutches, wearing specially designed braces on his legs to support his knees and ankles. This new-found freedom was wonderful to Bashir, who for a few days had believed what he had been told...that it was almost certain that he would never walk again.

The first thing he did on being released with his leg-braces and crutches, was to hobble over to the turbolift.

"Ops!" he told the computer.

The lift shot up, almost as if it was infected with his enthusiasm. When he reached ops, he did not move for some time, waiting to see if anyone would look up and notice him. A moment later, Worf looked up. Julian was surprised to see a rare light appear in the Klingon's eyes.

"Doctor Bashir! It is good to see you on your feet!" He said in his gruff voice. At that the other staff looked up, and abandoning their stations, crowded round him, exclaiming in delight.

"Julian! This is wonderful!"

"How are you feeling?"

"Doctor! Welcome to ops."

The last was from Sisko, who had appeared from his office to find out what had so distracted his crew. He too was wearing a delighted smile.

"Perhaps you'd like to come to my office Doctor, since you're here?"

Kira, Worf, Dax, O'Brien and Sisko watched with interest as Julian moved expertly, and surprisingly quickly with his crutches toward Sisko's office, and disappeared inside.

"Sit down Julian. I've had Doctor Limarr's report of course, but I'd like you to tell me how you think you're doing?"

Julian paused while Sisko poured them both a drink and sat down in his chair opposite.

"I make a terrible patient Captain...I know that much."

Sisko smiled.

"Most doctors do I'm told. If it were up to you, how much longer do you think it would be before you signed yourself back on duty?"

Julian considered honestly.

"Well, I can stand and balance fine on my own for as long as I need to, and I can walk a few steps without the crutches or braces, but my knees are still too weak, they tend to buckle quite quickly, so I'll be needing the leg braces for a while yet. There's no reason why I shouldn't go back on light duty. It shouldn't be too long before I'm back to full fitness."

Sisko nodded, then reached for a padd.

"Well, this is Doctor Limarr's considered opinion. She says you have progressed at a fantastic rate, and although she has no doubts about your ability to do your job, even standing still during surgery should not be a problem whilst you keep on the leg braces, she intends to stay here on the station until she is ready to declare you returned to full fitness. Until that time, you are free to return to duty, under certain restrictions."

"Which restrictions sir?"

"Except for your physiotherapy sessions, the braces on your legs are to remain in place at all times until she says otherwise, which obviously means not venturing anywhere without your crutches..."

"Of course."

"Also, despite your heavy workload as Chief Medical Officer, you're not to work more than eight hours during any twenty four hour period for the next two weeks, and you will give priority to your physiotherapy in determining your working schedule."

Julian rolled his eyes theatrically.

"Captain, eight hours a day for the next two weeks is about what it'll take me to catch up with all the missed paperwork..."

"But what about Doctor Girani?"

"She can handle all the routine stuff sir, but as you know, Starfleet regulations are quite specific..."

Sisko held up his hand.

"Yes, and you have both the Medical department and the Station Environmental Health and Safety departments to cater for...yes I see your problem. Perhaps I can have a word with starfleet and keep them off your back for a while longer until you're back to full duties? Okay, I'll do what I can." He nodded. "Well, so long as you obey Doctor Limarr's orders, that's all that matters. It's good to see you up and around again."

Julian left Sisko's office feeling suddenly unaccountably shy. Everyone looked so pleased to see him, and happy at his recovery so far. He recalled the week he had spent lying in bed in the infirmary after waking from the coma, with the knowledge that he would never walk again, and he was ashamed of the thoughts that had crossed his mind at the time. It was all very well lecturing Melora about letting other people help her, and about everyone being dependent on other people in space, but now he had a much clearer understanding of her position. Knowing that you were dependent on other people through no fault of your own was humiliating. Julian had felt embarrassed and humiliated at the thought that even with simple tasks like going to the bathroom, he would need assistance. Now however…

He felt everyone's eyes on him as he made his way to the turbolift, and paused beside O'Brien's console.

"Chief, how would you feel about...a celebratory game of darts this evening?"

O'Brien's face broke into a wide smile.

"I'd love to Julian. It's great that you are out of that chair for good."

Julian shook his head.

"Oh, the celebration is not about being on my feet, Miles. As of oh seven hundred hours tomorrow, I am back on duty in sickbay!"

The cheer that rang through ops made Julian's cheeks turn pink with happiness.

"Only light duty for now, but..."

Miles clapped his friend on the back, genuinely overjoyed, and unable to quite express it the way he wanted to in the present surroundings. Fortunately Julian understood and gave Miles a private wink.

"I'll see you tonight then."

He flashed a smile to the rest of the crew and entered the turbolift.

It was soon apparent that Julian was back. Miles and Julian reappeared on Wednesday evening at their usual place at the dartboard in Quark's.

The environmental systems, which had been in need of an overhaul finally got one. It had needed Julian's expertise to thoroughly study the temperatures in the various departments and the needs of the various different species living and working on the station, and make sure that all these rooms and private quarters were supplied accordingly. He also was needed to analyse the compound of gases released into the atmosphere to keep the air healthy for everyone, with no one gas or compound hanging around too long to cause unintended reactions that would be harmful. Once Julian had completed his analysis, he had to get together with Miles and actually perform any necessary repairs to get the changes in place as soon as possible.

The literal atmosphere on the station improved dramatically, making everyone realize how low they had been getting without the atmospheric upkeep.

O'Brien and his engineering team had been suffering from dizziness and nausea every time they ventured into a certain part of the station conduit system, and no amount of checking had thrown any light on the situation. Even Dax had come up with nothing. Julian, within minutes of learning about the problem, had sent Dax and O'Brien down there with tricorders and an open channel, and had them investigating the exhaust ports and the terminals for gas leeks. As a doctor, his mind naturally ran along the necessary routes for determining causes of such symptoms and before long the problem had been traced. Julian gave Miles the formula necessary to neutralize the effects on the humanoid nervous system, until the repairs could be completed.

Julian amused himself that for most of his first two days back on duty, he had spent all his time solving station problems, and had not seen a single patient. However, it gave him the opportunity to get those jobs done which only he was able to do properly, and which, since his illness, had been left for so long, not even being monitored. Even though his work had not been centered directly around sickbay itself, Julian's hard work behind the scenes was clear to everyone. Dax and Kira sat on the upper tier of Quark's bar one evening chatting. Kira glanced over the rail at the sight of Julian and Miles strolling along the promenade, Julian on his crutches keeping up with Miles easily.

"You know Jadzia, the reports I've been getting from the department heads over the last day or two about their crews is quite something."

"What do you mean?"

"Whether it's because they are just happy to have Julian back, or the fact that he has revamped the entire environmental systems, the level of crew morale has jumped by a considerable factor. As a result more work is being done at a faster rate, and when I checked, I found that the accuracy levels are also up. How can the presence or absence of one man really make so much difference to a station this size?"

Dax smiled.

"The thing about Julian is that when you're with him, he can be so very irritating it's sometimes a relief when he leaves. On the other hand, when you don't see him, or he is missing from the group for any reason, you find you miss his idiotic remarks. He has the trick of happiness Kira."

"I guess he has...what is it?"

Dax laughed outright.

"He knows when to be serious and when not to be. He doesn't make the mistake of taking himself too seriously. He knows when and how to lighten up. He refreshes any party because he can always make people laugh. If not with him, then at him. As far as his work goes, he is so brilliant at his work, that no one else can touch him, so he is bound to be missed."

"Girani missed him."

"Girani feels inadequate, that's why. She feels she'll never be as good as doctor Bashir. I can understand that. He's a tough act for anyone to follow."

"I suppose all this happening has made those two forget about their quarrel."

Dax frowned thoughtfully.

"That's hard to say."

"You think it might be brewing up again?"

"Oh no, I didn't mean that, Kira. It's just that...A long time has passed. Julian spent a long time in a coma, everyone expected him to die, then he woke up, but everyone expected him to never walk again, and yet he's come through that too, and Miles was by his side for the whole time. Julian knows that. Perhaps all this has taken away his hurt feelings, or maybe the long coma has buried them. Believe me though, if they haven't properly settled things yet, then the whole thing will come boiling up again sooner or later. The next time they are in a similar situation, they will have to face it if they haven't already. It would be impractical for them to be banned from away duty together, as they are both frequently needed on search and rescue missions."

Kira looked worried.

"I hope you're wrong Dax. I'd hate to see them at odds again."

That evening, Miles joined Julian in his quarters for a drink. They sipped their mugs of replicated synthale and looked at each other. Miles was biting his lip, and Julian could tell there was something on his mind. Finally the silence was starting to get on Julian's nerves.

"Miles, whatever is bugging you, I wish you'd just say something."

"It's just that...you remember what we were talking about just before that planet came up and hit us in the face?"

Julian nodded.

"I was asking you to be patient with me if I remember rightly."

Miles looked into his mug, as though fascinated by its contents.

"I can't get the thing out of my mind Julian. You have been acting as though it never happened, but I have had this...this thing the size of an elephant sitting on me ever since, and nothing will shift it."

Julian waited until Miles look up, and then met his gaze with one of his own.

"You think it has been easy for me Miles? You have the guilt, I the pain. Both of us suffer. For a long time all I could see was my own hurt and pain, Miles. I saw nothing but what you did to me. I nursed my bruised ego and carried it around with me, without realizing how much damage it was doing to others on the station. You and I have become more than the sum of our parts, Miles. We are important to the smooth running and the good morale of the station. The friendship of O'Brien and Bashir has become an important part of life here, as normal as the bulkheads. Once we lost our friendship, it was as if a part of the bulkhead was missing, and many people started to wonder if the strain of the war was even getting to us. They were all saying to each other, `if O'Brien and Bashir are cracking under the strain, then what hope is there for the rest of us?'"

Miles shook his head.

"I had no idea."

"I've only recently come to realize it myself. But something you should know but seem to have forgotten."

"What?"

"I was dying down there on that planet and you kept me alive. You got help to us before it was too late. While I was in that coma, you were there. You were there a lot of the time, talking to me, apologizing to me over and over again for what happened. I heard you Miles. I couldn't respond, but I was able to hear you, and I remember every word. Don't be embarrassed. When I woke up you were still there encouraging me to keep positive. I determined to find my own cure and instead of telling me to follow my own advice and obey the doctors, you agreed to help me and even put your own work on hold until we succeeded. The point about being friends is that we are always there for each other when times are bad, and you have always been there for me Miles, never more so than these last few weeks. So what if you did hurt my feelings a few months ago? That was just once. You have saved my life, helped me, encouraged me and been there for me many more times than just once. I remember the hurt Miles, but I have forgotten what it felt like, because I have learned a far more valuable lesson. The true nature of friendship."

Miles was staring at Julian with a humbled look. Gulping something down, Miles croaked out,

"What happens if something similar happens again?"

"I expect you will do as you think best, because you always will, just as I will always do what I think best. We are human Miles. Whoever said that the course of true friendship was never bumpy?"

"I thought they said that about true love?"

Julian grinned.

"Well. If it fits..."

"I'm glad I haven't lost your friendship Julian. I would sooner die that let that happen."

"Enough of the mushy stuff old friend. You're off duty for fort-eight hours now, right?"

"Yep!"

"So am I. Five days at eight hours a day, then two days break. Even an emergency is under orders to happen without me, so why don't you and I get a few bottles of the good stuff from Quark, and get ourselves well and truly drunk?"

A wide grin spread over Miles' face and he sprang to his feet.

"What are we waiting for?"

THE END


End file.
